


Any Other Drabble

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [11]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Drabble, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop, Skellies in love, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:43:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 12,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Drabbles set in the 'by any other name' verse





	1. Petting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short piece based off this adorable art by cheapbourbon  
> [this utterly adorable art](http://cheapbourbon.tumblr.com/post/176975221609/here-chic-chic-chics)

* * *

Edge had known from the second he saw the advertisement that going to the petting zoo was a good idea.

Oh, it was a joke among them that Rus was one with more childish tendencies but they all knew that for what it was; a joke. They all had their quirks, Sans or Papyruses. Edge collected action figures and had no shame about it. And Stretch…

He looked over at where his lover was crouched, both hands outstretched and his expression one of glee as a pair of chickens came over to peck the feed from them.

Stretch loved animals, the more adorable, the better, and while he’d attempted a sarcastic jab or two when they’d arrived, his eagerness had finally overcome his innate tendency to hide his excitement over anything deemed ‘childish’.

There were a few other Monsters here with little ones and plenty of human parents leading their own children to the different stalls. Only a couple of parents had seemed appalled at the presence of Monsters and even they had left discreetly enough. No scenes today, no shouting or unpleasantness, no watching Stretch’s cautious excitement fade into mute unhappiness.

No, today there were wooly lambs to hold and baby cows who would suck eager at your fingertips. Tiny goats that fell over whenever a child was too loud and right now, there were chickens, clucking softly as they fed from Stretch’s palm and allowing him to gently smooth his other hand over their feathers.

“i need one,” Stretch announced and Edge shook his head. He crouched next to him and carefully ran his palm over the little creature. It was softer than he’d expected.

“You’d be bored in a week,” Edge told him. “Then I would be taking care of it and chickens in my care become dinner.”

“he would not, don’t listen to him, noodle soup,” Stretch patted the chicken and it cocked its head at him, probably hopeful for more food and not at all concerned about the moniker it had been given.

A distraction was in order, “They have an alpaca on the other side over there.

Stretch’s eye-lights went bright and didn’t quite morph into little hearts, but Edge was sure it was a close call. “seriously? come on, let’s go!”

He grabbed Edge’s arm and pulled him along, chickens abandoned although he was careful making his way out of the pen. From Stretch’s glance at his feet, Edge could guess that the subject of a pet chicken was not yet forgotten. That could be for later, right now there was an alpaca to pet.

Fin


	2. Sleep Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has trouble sleeping from time to time. Edge is no exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little disturbing imagery in the first paragraph. Mentions of blood/marrow. It’s not explicit but I like to warn in case anyone needs to avoid it.

* * *

_For the first brief moment that marrow hits snow, it steams, body-warm and bright against the whiteness, splattered like a splayed hand. His brother is speaking but he can’t hear the words because someone is screaming and he can’t see why. He can’t see through the crimson filling his sockets, not magic but blinding fluid, he’s bleeding, his brother is bleeding, and someone is screaming._

_He’s screaming._

_screaming_

_s c r e a m i n g_

Edge woke and just at the borders of sleep he could hear his own screams, the pain in his socket was as blindingly brilliant as the moment it had cracked. Then the cobwebs of the dream faded back a little further, the pain slipped back to the memory and left only the shadow of an ache.

Next to him, Stretch was sound asleep, sprawling out and taking up far more than his allotted space on the mattress. His ankle was resting on top of Edge’s and he gingerly pulled free, pushing back the blankets and slipping from the bed. The chances of Stretch waking leaned more towards the yes side than the no; he was a surprisingly light sleeper and often woke whenever Edge got up in the night. Tonight, though, he only murmured and shifted to lay on his side, drawing his long legs up to his chest as he slept on.

In the corner was a small fan, its mechanical whirr masking the sound as Edge dug through the crumpled pack of cigarettes on the dresser and freed one. Stretch’s lighter was with it and he settled to sit on the window seat, pushing open the paned glass before flicking the lighter with practiced ease.

He blew a stream of smoke out the window, grimacing at the taste of smoke and tar, the soothing rush of nicotine absorbing into his mana. Humans were always so curious about them smoking, eating, drinking; consumption of anything by skeletons was a point of fascination for them. Always questioning where it went, why did they even bother, did they really need to eat? On and on, and they never wanted to accept the answer. Magic. It was magic, magic, always magic, that was the only answer and explanation, and frankly, the only one that Edge was interested in giving.

Further questioning usually led him to adding a pointed _I said it was fucking magic_ and usually the questions stopped after that.

Usually.

“you okay?”

An unexpected question in the dark. Edge looked back into the bedroom to see dim eye lights peering at him. Stretch was leaning up on one elbow, the blanket slipping down to his pelvis. He slept completely naked, because of course he would. Not that Edge was complaining but no amount of pleading was going to persuade him to forgo pajama pants. If there was a fire, at least Stretch could teleport someplace that didn’t leave him bareass on the sidewalk.

“Yes,” Edge breathed out the word with a cloud of smoke. He was. A memory couldn’t hurt him. Even the faint, phantom ache in his socket was fading.

“mmkay,” Stretch mumbled agreeably, snuggling back into the heavy warmth of the comforter. He didn’t ask any other questions, didn’t try to force answers and Edge loved him for it.

He did add, slyly, “if you need help falling asleep, i have something that’ll do the job.”

Edge chuckled, snuffing out the half-unburned cigarette into the ashtray on the ledge. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

He might take him up on the offer; Stretch was many things but he was never unhappy to be woken in the middle of the night with soft kisses and gentle touches. Then again, he never objected to being pulled into Edge’s arms, to simply being held while Edge cupped a hand over the gentle pulse of his soul.

Both options appealed and Edge took moment to consider it, letting that easy, simple choice push away the last of his nightmare, the last ugliness of haunting memory.

Decision made, he closed the window and made his way back to the bed, slipping beneath the blankets where his lover was waiting in the here and now, for him.

-finis-


	3. Amateur Villainy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is why Edge needs to call before he comes home from work. Seriously, they invented cell phones just for this.

* * *

Edge knew he should have called before he’d come home from work. 

If he had called, he would have been prepared for the sight on his front lawn. As it was, he hadn’t planned on the unexpected joy of pulling into the driveway to discover sitting on the grass a haphazard circle that was Stretch and a group of the local children. He couldn’t hear them but whatever Stretch was telling them about, he was wildly animated, his hands moving excitedly. The children were watching with wide eyes, riveted. 

Wonderful, he was starting a new cult to add to his twitter colony. 

Edge considered, briefly, simply restarting the car and driving away but he hadn’t survived Underfell to give into cowardice now. He gathered his determination and got out, approaching Stretch and his minions cautiously. He couldn’t help but notice that all of them seemed decidedly more _pink_ than could be considered normal, clothing and skin or bone alike stained. Ah, that was right, Stretch had gone in to do his science demonstration today. From the look of it, Edge was assuming he was going to get a politely worded letter in the mail asking him to prevent Stretch from doing it again. 

He was wearing a t-shirt that Edge vaguely remembered him owning that said in bright letters _scientists do it in the lab!_ ; a child-friendly concept if there ever was one. 

Lingering back a moment, he took in the worshipful looks of the children with no small amusement. Every time Stretch made new friends, be they Monsters or Humans, Edge had a childish, irrational urge to smugness. Yes, he wanted to say, you see now, all of you can see how wonderful he is.

_And he loves me._

To be fair to the rest of the universe, it had taken Edge a little time to come to the same conclusion. More fool him. 

As if sensing Edge was thinking soft thoughts about him, Stretch finally looked up and saw him and his eye lights brightened, lighting up. _He_ lit up, and the sight still made a warm pulse go through Edge’s soul. A confirmation of love that Edge already knew...wait.

There was something small and furry in Stretch’s lap. Small, furry, and alive. Warning bells were going off and Edge went for nonchalant as he walked up to the impromptu lawn assembly. 

“Hello, love,” he pressed a kiss to the top of Stretch’s skull, ignoring the various groans and disgusted sounds from the children. “What’s that you have?”

“oh, this?” Stretch said, all innocence. Edge wasn’t fooled, frowning at the ball of fluff as Stretch scooped it up and held it out. “it’s a guinea pig! his name is hamburger!”

...Hamburger? Of course it was. It never ceased to amaze Edge how similar Human and Monster children were.

“He’s mine!” Chimed in one of the beaming children. Edge nodded solemnly, eyeing it. Fluffy black and white mottled fur, its beady black eyes peered back at him. At least it had escaped whatever pinkening had affected Stretch and the children, and it seemed content to sit in Stretch’s cupped hands. 

“isn’t he cute?” Stretch nuzzled the little creature and it made a soft, churring purr. “he just likes to sleep and eat little snacks and cuddle.” 

“So what you’re saying is, you’ve found your spirit animal,” Edge said dryly.

Stretch’s look was both amused and withering. “haha.” He settled it back into his lap. “anyway, like i was saying once you have the mentos secured in the delivery device, if you want to achieve maximum geyser height, you should—"

A chill went thru Edge. “Wait. What are you telling them?”

“hmm?” Stretch said absently, petting the little creature snuggled into his lap. “i was telling them how to emulate a geyser with mentos and diet coke.”

Of course he was and all these little shits were listening intently. He could almost see the allowances being doled out at the little store on the corner and his peaceful weekend disappearing under an avalanche of angry Monster parents and their soda-drenched spawn.

Now seemed like an excellent time to stage an intervention. “I’m sorry, children, Stretch can’t play anymore today.”

“what?” Stretch looked up at him, bewildered. “yes, i can, i—hey!”

Edge avoided Stretch’s grabby hands and carefully deposited the guinea pig with its owner before pulling Stretch to his feet. 

“but i…wait a second!”

Without a pause, Edge hoisted Stretch over his shoulder, ignoring the childish giggles around them and calling back, “Good night, kids.”

He carried his wriggling bundle into the house and didn’t pause until the door was closed behind them. Safely inside, he set Stretch on his feet, ignoring his pout, “you said spending time with the kids was a good thing! i was bonding!”

“You were creating a miniature league of super villains,” Edge shook his head and lightly touched Stretch’s cheekbone, where it was stained with a pinkish blotch. “Dare I ask why you are so colorful?”

“dare, dare,” Stretch grinned, “we made a kool-aid rocket launcher! the smoke got a little out of hand and, well, it was cherry.” He shrugged and gestured at his entire self. “it should fade out in a couple days.”

A kool-aid...it would seem his attempt to spare the neighborhood was in vain. Pained, Edge rubbed at his temples. “I thought you were going in to talk to them about how you teleport?”

“nah, that’s boring! rocket launchers are much cooler.”

A difficult point to argue, considering that Edge had never been fond of teleporting anyway. “Can I assume they’ve banned you from further demonstrations?”

“are you kidding?” Stretch grinned smugly. “they loved it!”

“And the teacher?”

“that’s who i meant! next time i’m going to show them some awesome chemical reactions.”

Edge couldn’t help a smile. At least he was getting out of the house. “Let’s focus on dinner for right now, Einstein, and you can tell me about your nefarious plots while we eat.”

“they aren't nefarious,” Stretch protested but he let Edge guide him into the kitchen with a hand at the small of his back. “...mostly. seriously, though, there’s some awesome chemical reactions you can do that are really simple but look so cool and--”

He let Stretch’s chatter wash over him. Nefarious or not, it brought a certain amount of peace and a wealth of affection to hear him so excited and eager. 

“…by the way, I need a guinea pig. seriously, i really need one this time! did you see how cute it was? i mean, you need two actually, they get lonely on their own and…”

Well, it usually brought peace. “Tell me more about the chemical reactions,” Edge sighed, getting out a cutting board and made a mental note to add an alert to his phone. Call before he came home, check. He could use the extra time for his own nefarious plots. 

-finis-


	4. Crossing the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chicken Saga continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, it’s for [this utterly adorable art](http://cheapbourbon.tumblr.com/post/177364380849/noodle-soup) by cheapbourbon. I have no excuses. If I had a top ten list of things I didn’t expect to be writing, this would be on it, LOL!
> 
> hj-skb also did some completely adorable art of our favorite chickens and the skeleton who loves them [go check it out!](https://hj-skb.tumblr.com/post/178118959774/a-little-scene-that-stuck-with-me-from)

* * *

“Keep your eyes covered.”

“you know, if we’re going to roleplay, i could use a few minutes to prepare,” Stretch said, holding his hands over his eye sockets. He kept them closed as well, skeletal fingers being less than successful as blindfolds.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Just keep walking, I have you.”

Stretch followed the hands guiding him, frowning as he was led through their back door and he could hear the rustle of trees and grass. “it’s the middle of the afternoon, this is getting less sexy as we go, unless you’ve gotten some new kinks you haven’t revealed yet.”

“Insatiable.” Whispered hotly against his skull and Stretch shivered. “We aren’t having sex in our backyard in the middle of the day, so put the thought out of your clever but perverse mind.”

“fine, fine, but what are we…”

“All right, stop right here.” Edge settled his hands on Stretch’s shoulders. “You can uncover your eyes now.”

“’bout time. What are you up to—” Stretch trailed off as he looked, head tilting to the side in confusion. In the back corner of their yard where there had previously been little more than grass and greenery was a small shed. Or rather, it almost looked more like a children’s playhouse, except for the screened-in area next to it and–

Inside the fenced-off portion, pecking along the ground, were three small chickens eagerly searching the grass for treats, clucking contentedly.

“you got me chickens,” Stretch said blankly.

“Let’s be clear, they are your responsibility,” Edge said firmly. “They need to be cared for, fed and watered daily at least. I have a book for you on tending to them. If you can manage those calculus books of yours then I think you can manage a pamphlet. They are pullets so they are already laying, I considered chicks but these will be easier to care for and…oof!”

He staggered back a step, catching Stretch as flung himself into his arms, clinging to Edge painfully hard and burying his face into Edge’s shoulder. Gently, Edge cupped the back of Stretch’s skull with a gloved hand, stroking the smooth bone. “Love?”

“you got me chickens.” Stretch’s voice was thick and teary, and Edge swallowed hard, leaning his own skull against Stretch’s and holding him tightly.

“I had to get you something before I came home to a menagerie,” Edge said gruffly, clearing his throat. “At least chickens remain outdoors.”

A long moment passed before Stretch finally pulled away, hastily scrubbing at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie although dampness lingered at his sockets. Edge took the moment to step forward and unlatch the door of the coop, gesturing for Stretch to follow him.

Immediately, the chickens ran over to Edge, churring and bawking softly as they shuffled around his boots.

Stretch raised a brow bone.

Edge’s cheekbones took on a reddish hue. “I’ve been caring for them the past few days at the seller’s. I wasn’t about to get you chickens that weren’t going to be suitable pets.”

He crouched down and ran a hand over the larger white one, “This one is Noodle Soup, since you seemed taken with the name,” he patted the other, smallish red one. “This one is Dumpling,” another pat on the smallest black one, “and this one is Nugget.”

“you named my chickens noodle, dumpling, and nugget,” Stretch said gleefully. He sank to the ground, carefully reaching out and the chickens accepted his petting unconcernedly, pecking at the ground in search of tasty bugs.

“I’m familiar with your humor,” Edge said dryly.

“yeah, you go with that,” Stretch grinned. “you weren’t giggling on the inside at all…oh!” The larger chicken hopped up on Stretch’s legs, inspecting him and pecking lightly at his sweatshirt. “hey, she likes me!”

“Of course she does,” Edge settled next to him, “I like you and we both know I have impeccable taste. My standards are very high.”

It didn’t get him the laugh he expected. Instead, Stretch looked up at him, faint orange dampness threatening again at his sockets and a chicken in his lap. He petted it, smoothing the soft white feathers and said softly, “thank you.”

It would have taken a stronger Monster than Edge to resist leaning in, nuzzling a gentle kiss against his teeth. “You’re welcome, love,” he told him, adding with no little bemusement, “I hope you still appreciate it a month from now when they’ve settled in.”

“I hope you’re looking up new egg recipes or you’re going to be peddling something other than muffins at the embassy in a month,” Stretch teased and Edge kissed him again, carefully pushing Noodle Soup to the ground as he pulled his lover in closer, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of him and the softness of his joy.

-finis-


	5. Hey, Jealousy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge has trust issues. He knows this, thank you, and he deals. Sort of.

* * *

It wasn’t that Edge didn’t know he had issues with trust. He’d spent most of his youth being betrayed by anyone who wasn’t his brother, and even Red wasn’t exactly a paragon when it came to reliability.

But he was aware of his issues and did his damnedest to not let them affect his life. He dealt with problems as they came and didn’t let the pathetic treacheries of his youth rule him now.

Well. He tried not to.

Which was why he was staying where he was, seated at the end of the bar and not stalking to the other side where Stretch was waiting on a drink and chatting with a shirtless and attractive and young and had he mentioned shirtless Monster. A Monster who was leaning against the bar, the better to show off the taut lines of his abs, all but dripping with sweat from being on the dance floor. It was something of a match Stretch’s own damp tank top and the gentle glow of sweat on his bones that rendered him entirely too attractive to more than just another skeleton.

Edge wasn’t particularly fond of bars or dancing but occasionally Stretch got it into his head to go out and it wasn’t in him to deny his lover this small thing. That was what boyfriends did, wasn’t it? Occasionally made allowances for the wants of the person they loved and it wasn’t as if Stretch asked anything of him while they were here. He was content with Edge simply _being_ here, while he danced or played pool or drank a little too much. Edge was his safety and he was perfectly happy to be that for him.

At least, that’s what he thought he was…no. No, he knew who he was to Stretch and he wasn’t about to doubt that, not for some sweaty, half-naked jackass in a crowded bar, not for anything.

But he couldn’t stop himself from watching, half-turned away and from the corner of his eye as Stretch laughed at whatever the other Monster was saying and gave him a playful shove. He clenched both hands between his knees, forcibly stifling a flare of magic when the Monster gave him a little shove back. It wasn’t going to _hurt_ Stretch, there was no _intent_ , and he was still laughing even while Edge could taste the heat of his own magic, thick and raw.

Finally, finally, the bartender returned and set a glass in front of Stretch. He picked it up almost absently and while Edge was watching, pointed with his other hand across the…oh.

Pointed at him.

Stretch gave him a cheery wave and so did his shirtless companion, both of them smiling brightly. Feeling more than a little foolish, Edge returned it half-heartedly, watching as the other Monster pointed towards the dance floor and the pair of them waved to yet another shirtless, well-muscled Monster, who also waved back and was likely here with Stretch’s bar companion and Edge was an idiot.

Right.

Edge turned his attention to his own glass, nothing more than soda water with a wedge of lime, and focused intently on the bubbles rising in the glass. Moments later an arm slung across his shoulders, not entirely unexpected.

“hey, babe!” Loudly to be heard over the cacophony of the bar occupants. “doing okay over here?” Stretch slouched against the bar, panting a little and sweaty and so damned appealing that it was difficult not to simply drag him out to their car and take him home where Edge could make good use of that energy.

Meeting his entirely too-knowing eye lights made that idea easier to resist.

“I’m fine,” Edge told him, raising his voice to be heard. “Meet a new friend?”

“who, aaron?” Stretch jerked his head in the other direction, “we know each other from twitter! he and his boyfriend are hilarious, i’ll have to introduce you.”

Edge smiled at that, he did not grimace, and he would defend that distinction to his dying day. “Of course.”

He got the feeling that Stretch wasn’t exactly fooled. At all. But his smile was easy and relaxed as he asked, “you ready to head out?”

Edge shook his head. “No. Go dance, enjoy yourself.”

For one brief moment, their eye lights met and Edge heard nothing of the bar noise, nothing of the music.

_I trust you._

“okay,” Stretch said cheerily. He downed half his drink and then set the glass close to Edge’s, condensation dripping down to pool on the bar top. He pressed his teeth to the side of Edge’s skull so hard he heard the clack from within. “love you, babe!”

Slippery as an eel, he made his way through the crowd and back to the dance floor and was quickly engulfed in the sea of bodies. Edge stayed where he was, keeping an equal eye on their drinks and Stretch as he danced and laughed, and always came back to him.

-fin


	6. Rainy Days and Mondays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Edge has to bring his work home with him. Everyone is super happy about this.

* * *

Working at the Embassy involved endless paperwork, Edge had learned. Humans needed everything printed in triplicate, signed in triplicate, their triplicates in triplicates. What was worse was that Edge was coming to understand why they did. In a world full of computers that were small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, it was entirely too easy to delete something or twist it to mean something else entirely.

Stretch’s lawsuit from the bus had firmly taught that lesson.

Still, it didn’t mean he liked having mountains of file folders, stacks of paper, and piles of envelopes on his desk, every one more urgent than the last. Monsters and Humans alike depended on them getting everything right and while Edge was more than up for the challenge, it was tiring.

Particularly when he was forced to work at home.

Normally, he wouldn’t bother on a Monday. He had the entire week to get everything done and Edge valued his balance of work and life. But with their ambassadors out of the country negotiating these treaties, it was imperative to review them before they could get on a plane for their next conference. They did want Sans and Papyrus to be able to come home at some point.

So here he was, late on a Monday night and still working. He kept his desk in the living room; a quiet room would probably have been better for his work ethic but he was already gone all day long, leaving Stretch to keep himself busy with his own projects. At least with his desk here, he and Stretch were in the same room.

Arms slid around Edge’s shoulders, the pressure of a skull settling to rest between his shoulder blades.

Or perhaps Stretch was getting impatient and being in the same room wasn’t enough. 

“I’m sorry, I’m going to be at this for a little while,” Edge told him absently. Soft breath tickled against his cervical vertebra and without thinking, Edge shrugged, almost twisting away, enough that Stretch let him go and stepped back. “Sorry, love, that was uncomfortable.”

It took entirely too long for it to sift through his focus that Stretch didn’t reply. That he had, in fact, been very quiet all night long. The sound of the pen scratching against papers faded as Edge stilled. It had been a cold, rainy, and altogether unpleasant day outside which likely meant Stretch hadn’t felt like taking the bus into town. It was Monday, which meant Jeff was working, well, everyone had been working today. And Stretch was actually desperate enough for attention that he’d come very close to interrupting Edge’s work, something he never did.

_Shit._

He didn’t bother with discretion, pushing away from his desk and looking behind him. Stretch had sprawled out on the sofa again, the flickering light of the television screen scrolling over his face. Except his eye lights were dim and unfocused, his arms wrapped around himself halfheartedly, and Edge could see the shadows under his sockets from here.

There was a stack of papers he still needed to go through, review and sign and have ready for tomorrow morning, and Edge didn’t even need to think about his choice.

He loosened his tie and hung it neatly on the back of his chair, adding his jacket and his shirt, leaving him in a t-shirt and trousers. Stretch blinked once, looking at him as he walked over, and he let Edge nudge him a little, until Edge could settle on the couch in front of him, pulling Stretch’s arms around him and playing little spoon to Stretch’s big one. 

Ticklish breath gusted over his cervical vertebrae again and Edge squirmed helplessly but didn’t pull away, until Stretch shifted to rest his chin on Edge’s shoulder instead.

“I love you,” Stretch whispered and if it was faintly desperate, that was all right. Edge wasn’t going anywhere. He turned his head enough to press their skulls together and settled his hands over Stretch’s, holding on.

“I love you, too,” Edge told him, softly. He had no idea what movie Stretch had been pretending to watch and didn’t care, only added his own non-attention, and stayed where he was, warm in Stretch’s arms.

-fin


	7. Hey Jealousy -- Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of this drabble [Hey, Jealousy!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778035/chapters/36811257)

* * *

In the wee hours, the bar quieted some, many of the patrons having found other activities for the night. The dance floor had cleared and Stretch had wandered over to a quieter corner of the bar to play pool. Only for fun, Edge always made a point of emphasizing; as amusing as it was to watch Stretch hustle Humans and Monsters alike, they didn’t need the money and Edge wasn’t interested in getting into a fight tonight.

He’d had quite enough of the Ebott Police for the time being.

Edge was on his third soda water, still sitting at the bar and absently watching one of the low hanging televisions that was playing a rerun of Law and Order, when he heard a low, sharp whistle come from behind.

A quick glance revealed a hulkingly large Monster, taller even than Edge, and from the way he smelled, he’d already had plenty to drink for the night. He leaned in entirely too close and the alcohol on his breath was revoltingly strong.

“Well, ain’t you something?” He sat heavily on the bar stool next to Edge, his bulk bare inches from pressing against Edge. Hot, drunken eyes roved over Edge with piggish appreciation.

“What I am is not interested,” Edge said coolly. He didn’t move, refusing to give this overbearing oaf the satisfaction. His magic coiled within him, almost too eagerly and Edge resisted, holding it at bay. This was not Underfell and he needed to react accordingly, no matter how tempting a little murder might be.

“Aw, come on, sugar skull,” the oaf cooed, rank breath carrying, and Edge rolled his eye lights. How anyone could try that epithet unironically… “Let me buy you a drink.”

“No,” Edge said flatly.

“Don’t be such a cunt about it, one drink, come on,” he started to motion for the bartender, only to be interrupted by a cold, flat voice behind them.

“think he already told you ‘no’ once.” Edge and the oaf both turned to see Stretch standing behind them. His eye lights were sharp pin pricks, arms crossed over his chest, and Edge blinked at him in disbelief, feeling strangely surreal.

“Yeah?” the oaf sneered. “How about you let him talk for himself?”

“oh, he can talk for himself, trust me,” Stretch’s smile was cool and unamused. “he probably has a lot to say right now. but you know what? i think he’s said all he needs to as far as you’re concerned, so how about you make like a tree and fuck off.”

The other Monster stood, towering over Stretch. “Maybe you should—”

He didn’t get any further. One moment he was looming threateningly and the next, he was staring up at them and wheezing from the floor with his soul glowing blue through his shirt. Stretch’s socket blazed orange, his hand lifted and fingers tense as he held him down.

“what was that?” Stretch cocked his head, listening, “you’re sorry you’re an asshole? you didn’t mean it and you’re going to go home and think about what you did? oh, and you have a small dick? that small, really? and you did what to your dog when you were fifteen? seriously, pal, i don’t know if you should be confessing to this shit in a crowded bar–”

“Stretch, let the poor guy leave,” the bartender called over to them, sounding bored, “don’t make me call the cops, it hurts my tips.”

For a moment, his socket flared hotly and the oaf’s breathing grew tighter, hitching in panic. Then slowly, his hand relaxed, easing. “yeah, probably a good idea. listen, i’m gonna let you up, and you’re gonna want to hit me. it’s okay, i get that a lot. but let me tell you, you go right ahead and resist that urge because it would go bad for you, all right? my boyfriend is even grumpier than i am and he’s not gonna stop with just holding you down.”

The blue faded from the Monster’s soul and he climbed slowly, heavily to his feet, once again towering over them. Rage simmering in his drunken eyes, vicious and hot. Stretch only looked up at him, rocking on his heels, one hand in his pocket and the other loose at his side, orange flickering at his fingertips.

“don’t,” Stretch warned, softly.

The moment went on, scraping tense, and then it passed. Silently, the Monster turned and walked out, the crowd parting like water to let him through and flowing back in as he passed. Edge watched him go until he was out of sight before turning his gaze to his boyfriend, who was slowly relaxing, tucking his other hand in a pocket to mirror the first.

Stretch met his look sheepishly. “uh, sorry, i know you don’t need the help but—”

He made a startled sound as Edge grabbed him by the front of his tank top and hauled him in, kissing him hungrily, wet and wanting. His moan was caught between their teeth, sharpening into a squeak when Edge’s hand slipped down his spine to the backside of his jeans, squeezing his sacrum through denim.

Edge pulled away, panting out, “We need to leave right now or I’m going to fuck you in the bathroom.”

“yeah, okay,” Stretch swallowed. “I…oh, fuck—!” His voice broke as Edge pushed a knee between his legs, grinding his femur against his crotch. Stretch shuddered and forcibly pushed Edge back, hissing out, “…if you make me come in my pants, i’m never going to be able to come back to this bar again!”

“Then hurry up,” Edge told him, low and hoarse.

Stretch nodded frantically, “tommy, put everything on my tab!”

He didn’t wait for the bartender to wave him off, grabbing Edge’s wrist and pulling him outside. Edge followed, let Stretch manhandle him to the car and only then did he resist, opening the back door instead and shoving Stretch inside to sprawl on the backseat, his eye lights widened and startled. Edge followed him, closing the door firmly behind them.

The windows fogged quickly enough and if anyone noticed the soft flashes of light coming from within, glimmers of red and orange flaring even through the steamed glass, they only hurried on to their own cars, and paid it no mind. This bar served Monsters, after all, and sometimes it was better not to know.

-finis-


	8. E-I-E-I-O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chicken saga continues!

* * *

A week after getting the chickens, Edge would have to admit, it was going better than expected. Oh, it wasn’t that Stretch didn’t care about things; it was just that his attention span ranged from zero to utterly focused to the exclusion of all else. Edge was aware of his lover’s flaws and had accepted them long ago. In his opinion, it was more than worth it. 

And so, for all his warnings, he’d fully anticipated having to step in to help care for the little beasts. But to his surprised pleasure, Stretch had been diligent with them. He had set alerts on his phone to remind him if he got wrapped up in lab work and they’d adjusted to omelet breakfasts every other day. 

Also, there was still the lingering pleasure of Stretch’s delight with his new pets. The charm would likely wear off eventually but for now, Edge kept his own delight close to his soul whenever he saw Stretch caring for his small brood.

Like now. He’d been taking them out of the coop every afternoon to allow them to roam the length of the backyard and now when Edge got home from work, Stretch was less likely to be sprawled on the sofa and more to be in the yard in the grass. A great improvement in his opinion.

Except…

Edge opened the sliding glass door and walked out to where is his lover was sitting beneath a shady tree, studying him a long moment before asking with no little bemusement, “What on earth are you wearing?”

The overalls were brand new and dark blue, rolled into cuffs over Stretch’s bony bare feet. Coupled with a plaid shirt and a straw hat, if Stretch had a stalk of wheat clenched in his teeth rather than a cigarette, he may as well have stepped out of a country song.

Stretch beamed up at him, “i’m a farmer! this is what they wear!”

Edge only shook his head, “You have three chickens. Three.”

“i am a tier one farmer.” Stretch informed him loftily, tipping back his straw hat. The price tag was still dangling from the back of it. “gotta start somewhere.”

“Be that as it may, I draw the line at any other creature. No pigs, cows or goats.”

Stretch brightened and Edge had a moment to regret opening his mouth. “hey, we could get those tiny goats! they’d be useful, they could trim the grass!”

“No,” Edge said firmly, making it clear that no amount of pitiful expressions was going to change his stance on this. He hoped he was more successful than he had been with the chickens. “If you want to start a vegetable garden, that is acceptable.”

Stretch snorted and tamped out his cigarette, tucking the butt into his pocket. “uh, yeah, i think i’ll stick with the ‘sitting and watching chickens’ level of farming.”

“You’ll never get your crafting level up that way,” Edge told him teasingly.

“guess i’m stuck at level one. it’s kinda soothing watching them, you know? like an aquarium but with less water and more feathers.”

“Mmmhmm,” Edge said agreeably. He hadn’t known and if he had, he might have gotten them sooner. He crouched down, intending on giving Stretch a kiss now that he wasn’t smoking and the moment he did, the chickens made a beeline to him. He hastily stood before they could hop on his suit pants and Noodle changed course amicably enough, settling onto Stretch’s denim-clad lap instead.

“they sure like you,” Stretch said, amused, “think they’ve established a _pecking_ order.”

Edge closed his sockets. “Stop.”

“C’mon, you’d be an _egg-cellent_ leader. Don’t _chicken_ out now, you can just _wing_ it—”

“I’d stop if I were you or you aren’t going to _get laid_ for the rest of the week,” Edge warned. 

“consider me stopped,” Stretch giggled, gently stroking Noodle’s feathers. The chicken was content enough with the attention, clucking softly and inspecting Stretch’s overalls in case a tasty bug was hidden somewhere.

Edge shook his head and turned back to the house. “I’m going to start dinner. Come inside when you’re ready, preferably washed up and dressed in your normal clothing and not your alternate persona of Old Macdonald.”

“edge,” Stretch called after him. “hey, i clucking love you, you know.”

Edge stopped. “I love you too,” he said and looked over his shoulder, a brow bone raised, “and you’re sleeping on the sofa.”

“what?? come on, babe, it was a joke, you wouldn’t really—”

Edge shut the door behind him, laughing softly to himself. On days like today, Underfell seemed very far away.

-finis-


	9. Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch knows he isn’t okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this has a portrayal of depression in it, so if you need to avoid that, please do.
> 
> Also, I’d like to say that I do not recommend this as a way to deal with depression. Everyone’s depression is different, yours isn’t mine, and Stretch is a fictional character made of magic. Handle yours in the way that is best for you and take care of yourself.

* * *

He’d known from the moment he woke up what kind of day it was going to be.

Stretch knew he wasn’t all right, you know. Not like it wasn’t fucking obvious to everyone he met. He did prefer being called an ‘idiot’ to ‘crazy’, though, eh, semantics, but yeah. _Technically_ , he wasn’t crazy or an idiot but _technically_ he wasn’t a refrigerator, either, so technically could go fuck itself.

Blue hadn’t liked idiot or crazy. He had issues, his brother insisted, that was all, but fuck it. If it quacked like a duck then it wasn’t a bathtub filled with egg beaters, you know?

He hadn’t been all right even before…everything… and after…everything…

_(Resets)_

He’d been worse. 

So yeah, he wasn’t okay and he could tell right now that today was a gray day. Not that bad in the scheme of things; he’d had much darker days, days where his thought were filled with ugliness and he’d never told Edge about the things he thought about on his darkest days. Edge worried enough and wasn’t like Stretch had ever done any of those things. It had been ages since he’d had one of those days, anyway, so was there even a point in talking about it? Nope. 

He’d never be able to tell Blue but Edge was better at handling his gray days than anyone. He didn’t pester, didn’t visibly fret. Blue had often plied him with advice, insisted that he eat something, and Edge…didn’t. He asked questions; did he want drink, could Edge sit on the sofa with him, was it all right to touch? Questions that he would patiently wait to be answered and he was never upset when the answer was no.

Most importantly, he didn’t try to diagnose and Stretch loved his brother, he did, but the constant nudging him to talk to someone, to get help, maybe some medication…

It came from a place of love, he knew that, but…yeah. It made it worse, made him want to deal with it less. 

After they’d gotten here and things had settled down a little, he had talked to Alphys about it once and her hesitant stammering made it…not okay, but not so bad. She was one of us.

“You can…hmmm…take medication but I don’t know if it would help,” she’d told him haltingly. “It’s never been tested on skeleton physiology, you’d be your own test subject.”

She had been the one who asked him the best question, “What do you want?”

What did he want? He wanted to be right here. He wanted to be with Edge and laugh with him and love him, and maybe sometimes there were gray days and crazy thoughts. Maybe sometimes things weren’t great but he didn’t have black days anymore.

_(Not in a long long time and he’s never told Edge about those, never, and you couldn’t even tell, Blue was an excellent healer and and and)_

“I think I’m okay,” Stretch told her and she’d smiled.

“Then be okay.”

Today, he woke up alone with a vague memory of Edge telling him goodbye before he went in to work. Usually, Stretch would make the bed but today he just couldn’t and that was okay. Edge would understand.

_(He loved him he loved him so much he didn’t deserve him but he loved him)_

Stretch forced himself to go outside and take care of the chickens; they depended on him, he couldn’t let them suffer just because he was a cluck up. He didn’t stay to watch them, not today.

After, he went inside and sprawled on sofa. He might watch tv, he might just sleep. It was a gray day and Edge would come home eventually and he’d know.

And that was okay.

-finis-


	10. Poultry in Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing the Great Chicken Saga

* * *

It was still dark when Edge awoke, a glance at his phone confirming it was only just past 3am. Sleepily, he took in the empty bed next to him and sighed, abandoning the warmth of the blankets and slipping on his robe. 

It was pleasantly cool outside and Edge shut the sliding glass door behind him, walking through the dew-damp grass to the back of the yard.

As he’d suspected, sitting inside the coop was the dim shape of his lover, his eye lights visible in the darkness. Edge opened the gate and stepped inside, settling down to sit next to him even as he mourned the laundry he was going to have to do tomorrow. 

“what are you doing up?” Stretch asked, his voice carrying in the hush.

“I woke up with enough room to sleep comfortably for once so of course I was worried about you,” Edge said dryly. Very, very carefully, he reached out to where Nugget was settled in Stretch’s lap and stroked a finger over her back. “How is she?”

“all right,” Stretch said quietly. 

Earlier that day, their smallest bird had managed to squeeze in between the feed trough and the fence where its larger brethren couldn’t fit and gotten stuck. In her panicked thrashing, she’d managed to break a wing. 

When Stretch had called him in hysterics, Edge had first thought there was another attack. He’d never understood the physics behind their ability to teleport but in that moment, he swore his soul had made a valiant attempt. When he’d finally calmed Stretch down enough to figure out what was going on, he’d contacted a local veterinarian and had emergency access to New New Home granted for the Human. 

Considering his actions today, Edge was planning on having him added to the permanent list. He had been more than a little concerned that the Human would simply suggest putting the animal down being that it was merely a chicken. Instead, after his initial disconcertment at being surrounded by Monsters, he’d been extraordinarily kind, masterfully soothing Stretch’s panic, binding the little creature’s wing and giving them instructions to care for her. 

He was going to have a surprise of his own when he got the check for his services, Edge was certain. He’d made sure of it. 

“The vet said she’ll be fine,” Edge reminded him. The little bird seemed to be sound asleep, the bandage stark against her dark feathers. “Two weeks in isolation for it to heal and she’ll be back out here to find more trouble.”

“i know,” Stretch sighed. “i just couldn’t sleep.” He was quiet for a long moment. “can you promise me something?”

The urge to say ‘of course’ was automatic, and resisting it was a lesson hard learned. “What, love?”

“promise me if one of them does die that you won’t…you know…”

He didn’t know, not for a long second, and then it hit him. “Papyrus!” Edge exclaimed in wounded indignation, “You can’t possibly believe that I would actually cook your pet!”

He hunched over guiltily, “no, no, of course not. i just…i didn’t…”

“Oh, for…I hereby promise that I would never cook one of your pets,” Edge said irritably. “Honestly, this isn’t the underground, they have supermarkets here!”

“i know!” Stretch moaned. “i didn’t really think you would.”

“Of course not. They’re too old to be good eating now, anyway,” he teased, laughing softly as Stretch elbowed him. 

“yeah, yeah, always a funny guy.”

Edge shifted to sit behind Stretch, his legs on either side of him and his arms wrapped around his chest. He settled his chin on Stretch’s shoulder and looked down at the small chicken in his lap. There was a faint, odd glow, he saw, narrowing his sockets, greenish and dim. 

“Are you actually trying to use healing magic on a chicken?”

“just a little!” Stretch said defensively, “it might work and if it doesn’t, it won’t hurt her.”

“Fool,” Edge said with soft affection. 

“i’m your fool,” Stretch told him, loftily. 

“That you are,” Edge agreed, nuzzling the side of his skull. “But then, I’m sitting with you in a chicken coop in the middle of the night. I suspect we’re a matched set.”

“yeah.” Stretch leaned back against him with a sigh. “you and me, like chickens in a coop.”

“No one in here but us chickens,” Edge whispered to him and Stretch giggled, elbowing him again. 

“why are you never funny when other people can hear it? no one believes me.”

“I suppose I mis- _laid_ my sense of humor.”

“stop,” Stretch sputtered, quivering as he struggled to keep quiet, “You’ll wake up Nugget. Besides, you’re _poaching_ all my best _yolks_.”

Edge pressed his fingers firmly to Stretch’s teeth. “Hush, you’ll wake Nugget.”

“yes, dear,” Stretch snickered, sighing as he snuggled deeper into Edge’s arms and pet his sleeping chicken. And tried to heal. Eh, couldn't hurt. 

-finis-


	11. Beholder (mature)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something deeply satisfying about giving someone else pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut, pure smut.

A lesson that this universe had taught him that Underfell never had was that there was something deeply satisfying about giving someone else pleasure. It was entirely too easy to spend an hour or longer sprawled out on their bed with Stretch, listening to the sounds he made, watching his expression tighten in pleasure from nothing more than his fingers. With his knees apart, Stretch’s magic was lush and heavy at his pelvis and Edge was settled between his legs, watching him, every part of him. 

“You’re so pretty here,” Edge murmured. He was. Edge had never had a particular fondness for the color orange until he’d seen Stretch’s magic. Especially here where his cunt formed into silky folds like petals that glistened damply with want. He’d heard of vaginas being compared to flowers before but considering Stretch’s was the only one he’d seen in person, Edge didn’t have a basis of comparison. What he had instead was two fingers pressed inside that lovely tightness, white bone shiny-slick, and that sight was entirely different sort of pretty.

To him, he was simply stating a fact. Underfell appreciated bluntness; but Stretch had both hands covering his face and his cheekbones peeking between his fingers were nearly fluorescent.

“i can’t believe you’re such a pervert,” Stretch groaned, his voice trailing into a whimper, “you can’t just say that!”

“I believe I just did,” Edge leaned in close to let his breath gust over the damp folds and felt that pretty cunt tighten around his fingers. “Of all the Monsters you fucked before you met me, none of them told you how pretty you are here?” Carefully, Edge pressed a third finger in, circled the hard nub of his clit with his thumb and Stretch convulsed in a familiar, _ooh-too-much_ spasm, hands scrabbling at Edge’s wrist until he lightened the pressure.

He could feel the silky walls clenching tight around him, Stretch twitching beneath him and there was something…his gasps were deteriorating into hitching breaths and Edge frowned, looking up from the soft glow between his legs to his face. With his hands pulled away, Stretch was left exposed, tears streaming that were the same soft, translucent honey-orange as his cunt.

From his expression, they were not tears of pleasure or over-stimulation but wounded and soft. 

Edge started to pull away and Stretch clutched his hand, forced his fingers deeper. “don’t stop!!...fuck, don’t…don’t!!”

He shuddered and came, the walls of his cunt clenching tightly enough to ache. Edge gentled him, fingers slowing against the soft fluttering around them. They made a soft, wet sound when he withdrew them, his bones tinted a shade of honey. Still pretty but he wiped his hand on the sheet and shifted up on the bed. His cock was still heavy and hard between his legs and Edge ignored it, ignoring Stretch’s weak resistance to pull him into his arms. He was obviously still crying and just as obviously struggling to stop, one arm thrown over his eyes in a feeble attempt at disguising it. Slowly, it eased, until Stretch finally pulled his arm away from his wet face. With the corner of a pillowcase, Edge wiped the lingering dampness away.

“I’m sorry,” Edge told him, softly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Stretch gave him a withering look. “you think i give a shit about anyone i fucked before you.”

 _Yes_ , Edge thought. He didn’t say it. Instead, he asked, “Then what?”

That same lovely orange blossomed again in his cheekbones; Stretch could be surprisingly reserved for someone as sexual as he was. Blaring out vulgarities in public and on twitter, but for all the sex they’d had, he could still be somehow bordering on shy.

“it’s just...you think i’m pretty. even...even there.”

Edge didn’t say of course. Didn’t shake his head in astonishment only kissed him softly. “I do. Every part of you is pretty to me.” He smirked a little. “Say cunt.”

“cunt,” Stretch echoed and stuck out his tongue. He pulled it back in quickly when Edge leaned in closer. 

Instead of biting, Edge told him, “Say, ‘I have a pretty cunt’.”

“my perverted lover thinks i have a pretty cunt,” Stretch laughed, “now put it to good use, wouldja? or you want me to talk dirty a little more?”

“Why not both?” Edge leaned down and kissed him. Perhaps it was better to give pleasure than receive it but for now, he thought, it was a mutual benefit. 

-finis-


	12. Pumpkin Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a lovely piece of art by cheapbourbon.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Go and adore it as I do. ](http://cheapbourbon.tumblr.com/post/178152906654/is-it-fall-yet)

* * *

The door slamming was not an unusual occurrence. Stretch tended to range from lazily kicking the door shut to an excited bang as he ran into the house, and Edge turned away from his desk with a raised browbone to see which one it was.

“come outside! come out, come out!” Stretch chanted, bouncing on his toes. Such genuine excitement from him was rare enough that Edge didn’t question, only snagged his jacket and followed him. He did take the time to close the door with more decorum but Stretch had already run out ahead of him, arms spread as if to showcase their entire neighborhood.

“look!” he said gleefully.

The large trees that graced their street and shaded it through summer had seemingly overnight gone from goddesses of green to soft shades of orange and brown. Leaves covered the sidewalks, gusted up on currents of wind and fell in silent twirls from the branches to settle at the ground.

Edge still wasn’t accustomed to the sight.

They’d all seen winter, slogged through snow-covered trails to guard stations, shivered through blizzards, and even on rare occasions paused to listen to the hush of snow falling in the silent woods.

Flowers had bloomed in New Home, cooling rain fell in Waterfall. Hotland boasted scorching heat and all the Monsters of the Underground had known their territories well.

Autumn was not for under the mountain. Leaves never fell to be crunched beneath feet, gentle wind that hinted at the coming chill had never cooled their faces. Before coming to the surface, Edge had never seen a pumpkin and he’d certainly never witnessed the massacre of one, carved with large holes for eyes and jagged teeth for candlelight to gleam through in the darkness.

Soon enough, he knew he would be easily coaxed into traveling to an orchard to ride in a trailer filled with haybales so that Stretch could choose his perfect jack-o’-lantern to be. He’d watch his lover scamper through the fields as eagerly as any of the children, sipping a cup of hot cider and more than likely carrying a bag of fresh donuts that wouldn’t survive the trip back.

Their house would be filled with the spicy aroma of baking pie, apple and pumpkin and even mince, which Stretch hated and Edge enjoyed. He’d roast squash and pumpkin seeds and Stretch would order anything from any menu that included the words pumpkin spice.

They’d spend evenings sitting at the firepit in their backyard, wrapping in blankets and huddled together against the chill, and Stretch would point out the different constellations that came out during the fall.

All of that would be soon.

For now, Edge only smiled a little and watched his lover kick his way gleefully through the piling leaves, laughing as they crunched and fluttered up into the air. Not far away he could hear children shouting in their own delight, Monster children who were learning the joys of Autumn much the same that they were. He couldn’t see them, yet. There was no one around.

With Stretch’s back turned, Edge took the moment to run up to him, snagging him around the chest and lifting him off his feet. His laughter turned to closer to a yell of amusement, not quite struggling as Edge shifted him around until Stretch was on his back, carrying him easily as Stretch reached out for a handful of falling leaves.

“wanna go for a walk?” Stretch asked, and his delight was a warm glow in the growing coolness of the Autumn air.

“I’ll walk, you enjoy the view,” Edge told him and Stretch hugged him tightly from behind, leaves scattering softly down on them as they made their way down the street.

-finis-


	13. Morning Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge has a very specific way of going about his morning.

* * *

Edge turned off his alarm almost the moment that it chimed, sitting up in the darkness. Next to him, Stretch didn’t so much as twitch, well-accustomed to sleeping through it, and Edge made his way through the darkness to the closet. A quick check on his phone app confirmed the temperature and he chose a running suit over shorts, dressing quickly and making his way downstairs. Once there, he flicked on the coffee machine, leaving it to brew as he went outside into the chilly morning. 

The streets of New New Home were mostly deserted, too early yet for children and he saw only one other Monster, jogging grimly along. Edge nodded in greeting and ran on with neither headset nor cell phone, enjoying the brief quiet. 

When he returned home, damp with sweat and not quite panting, he picked up the newspaper that was waiting on the stoop before going back inside. The rich aroma of coffee was wafting through the ground floor. He poured his first cup of the day, taking a drink immediately despite the steam rising from the cup. He drained that one quickly, poured another and that one he sipped while he paged through the newspaper, noting any stories that concerned Monsters and writing in quick, bold strokes on a pad of paper. 

A shower was next, briskly cool, and he toweled off before stepping on the mat. As he told Stretch more than once, it was there to keep anyone from slipping and not to catch every drip. He hung the towel up to dry and walked bare to the bedroom.

In his absence, Stretch had moved into his side of the bed, curling up into the warm place he’d left behind. He looked peaceful in his sleep. 

Edge dressed as quietly as he could, knotting his tie with quick, efficient tugs. In stocking feet, he walked over to the side of the bed and sat, leaning in. Magic had a subtle scent to it and he could smell his own, the sweetness of Stretch’s, and the scent they made together. 

Gently, he pressed a kiss to Stretch’s skull, hardly more than a brush. He murmured in his sleep anyway, sighing and squirming deeper into the blankets. “love you,” he sighed, and Edge couldn’t be sure if the words were for him here or in dreams. 

“Love you, too,” he said softly, and for a moment Edge was tempted to crawl back into the bed with him, to strip off his suit, his veneer of civility, and kiss him awake, make love to him in the pool of sunshine that was steadily creeping in from the window and listen to the loveliness of his sweet, throaty cries.

Instead, he reared back and shook his head, inhaling a breath of fresher air. Tonight, he promised himself. He turned away from temptation and went back downstairs, sliding on his shoes and gathering his paperwork and briefcase before going out the front door to face the day. 

-fin


	14. Usual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge just likes the usual, thanks.

* * *

It wasn’t quite four o’clock when Edge’s phone rang with Stretch’s ringtone. 

Some years ago, Stretch had set it to ‘Monster Mash’ in a clear demonstration of his twisted sense of humor, and while Edge had complained about it initially, he’d left it that way for a very long time. It was ridiculous, but Stretch rarely called when he could text and having that snippet of song occasionally play had always made him smile. 

He’d changed it recently to a short chime, quiet but clear. After the attack on New New Home, Stretch’s number would never be on vibrate again, not that he was aware of that. Edge wasn’t one for secrets but he also didn’t see the need to volunteer information if someone didn’t ask. 

Edge tapped the answer button, “Yes?”

“you do know you’re supposed to answer the phone with hello,” Stretch told him and the warm amusement in his voice made Edge smile a little.

“The last time I called you, you said something about being a taxidermist.”

” ‘thank you for calling bob's taxidermy world, you snuff 'em, we'll stuff 'em,” Stretch recited, “yeah, but you’re supposed to have better manners than me. can you pick me up your way home?”

Edge frowned. “Where are you?”

“the beanery.”

“What’s wrong? I can leave now.” He glanced at his email to verify that was true; one project he’d have to address at home tonight, but the rest could wait until tomorrow.

“nothing is wrong, you worrywart, i just want a ride,” Stretch laughed. 

“You never want a ride,” Edge said with conviction, “You would rather ride those moldering buses than ask anyone for a ride.”

“okay, first, ebott buses are very nice. second, i’m losing the thread, here, is that a yes, you can pick me up, or…?”

“Yes, yes, I can pick you up in about an hour.”

“sounds good,” Stretch said cheerfully. “see you then!”

The call ended, and Edge considered his phone thoughtfully, then went back to his paperwork. If he hurried, he could solve this mystery all the faster.

* * *

He didn’t bother texting Stretch when he pulled into the Beanery’s parking lot. As he always did, he parked in the back corner, away from the ragged, beaten cars of the college students who frequented the shop. The bell above the door jangled when he pushed it open, peering around the shop suspiciously. Stretch was sitting at his usual table with his laptop, along with a completely unusual little flower centerpiece with shiny foil letters that said ‘Congratulations!’

“i told you he’d never last the hour,” Stretch called, and Debbie popped up behind the counter. 

“Oh, you’re always right,” she fussed, tossing a towel on the counter. “Hold on, hold on.” She went to the back room and called to the other baristas, “He’s here!”

Four other people in black aprons poured out of the back room, far more than was usual at this time of night. Edge knew all of them by name, Daniel, who was a college student himself, Alisha, who had a young daughter and was always happy to share pictures when Edge asked after her. Hussain, another student, from overseas and Stretch often spent time chatting with him in his native language. And Jennie, who was Debbie’s niece and on her first day, she hadn’t batted an eyelash when Edge stepped up to the counter, only asked him if he wanted his usual.

“Sit, sit,” Debbie laughed, shooing Edge over to Stretch’s table. One of the other baristas, Hussain, stepped forward and set a plate in front of them. On it was a cake, hardly the usual coffee shop fair, it was decorated to look like a yin-yang symbol, with the darker part chocolate, and the lighter Edge would guess was lemon.

Bemused, Edge watched them line up, with Debbie in the forefront. 

“All right,” she said, clapping her hands together, “I know that your wedding is in New New Home, and you can’t have any Humans there, but we wanted to get you something.”

“Debbie, you didn’t have to—”

“I can talk louder,” she threatened, and Edge subsided. 

“Now, a gift card seemed too easy,” she continued. “And we wanted something a little more special than that. I feel some responsibility towards the two of you, you know, since you spent a part of your first date here.”

“And it was a worthy conclusion,” Edge murmured. 

“I’m very fond of you two boys,” Debbie said, and her eyes went teary. “Stretch, you’ve been coming here since you found the bus stop and you’re always so helpful when we have problems with our equipment. And Edge, I have you to thank for making Monsters aware that we are an inclusive establishment and they will always be welcome here.”

Across the table, Stretch was getting teary as well and Edge silently handed him his handkerchief. 

Debbie took a deep, shaky breath, smiling damply at them, “So! That said, we got you this. All of us contributed and we know it isn’t much, but we hope you like it.”

Daniel stepped up with a flat, square package that Edge guessed was a frame. 

“you open it,” Stretch gestured and with a little trepidation, Edge did, carefully tearing away the plain brown paper.

He held the picture up and studied it in the mellow coffee shop lights. It was professionally framed and nicely done at that, sleek and modern and it would fit in well with their home décor. But the subject—

Edge couldn’t remember when this picture had been taken. He and Stretch were sitting at this very table, leaning in for what was surely a brief kiss, but heartfelt nonetheless. It was a lovely candid shot, and Edge felt a faint prickle in his own sockets, looking up at the baristas who were watching anxiously, shuffling their feet as they waited. 

“I couldn’t possibly thank you enough for this,” he said simply, and wide grins broke out all around.

Debbie nearly clapped her hands in glee, still sniffling a bit as she turned away. “I’m so happy to hear it, sweetie. All right, then, let me get some plates for the cake. Edge, dear, do you want coffee? Your usual?”

“Yes, thank you,” Edge said, reaching over the table to take Stretch’s hand in his. “My usual would be perfect.”

-Fin


	15. Firelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the night before the wedding and creatures are stirring.

* * *

Stretch wasn’t unaccustomed to waking up alone. To begin with, Edge was always long gone when he got up in the morning, even on weekends he was an ‘early to rise’ kind of guy, although on Saturdays he was sometimes a ‘easy to persuade back to bed’ one as well.

On this particular night, Stretch sat up muzzily and stared at the empty side of the bed in sleeping incomprehension, until it filtered through his sleep-addled mind exactly what was missing. His boyfriend, his lover, and tomorrow…no, according to the clock it was later today, his husband.

Yeah, Stretch wasn’t getting back to sleep now.

After nightmare-gate a few weeks ago, Edge has bought him a new bathrobe. He hadn’t said anything about it, nothing about Stretch’s ridiculous refusal to let Edge out of his sight, not about having to lug Stretch around in a pile of blankets so he wasn’t naked. Nope, he’d gone the route of simply buying him a bathrobe, for reasons, in case of things, and that was fine because Stretch wore it every morning now because it was super fluffy, very yellow, and it had rubber chickens on it. In a word, perfect.

Stretch really did love him.

So, he pulled on his lovely, warm, yellow bathrobe and belted it before wandering downstairs to see where Edge had gotten to. He suspected it wasn’t very far.

* * *

Edge couldn’t sleep.

The fireplace, which had lain dormant over the summer, had a cheery little blaze glowing on the grate and Edge had pulled the armchair close to it. A glass with a splash of bourbon was dangling from his fingers. He didn’t often drink, preferring to be clear headed, but tonight he’d given in.

He was watching the flames in silence when he heard the creak of a stair, looked up to see Stretch making his way downstairs.

“Did I wake you?” Edge asked softly. Stretch sat on the arm of the chair and Edge wound an arm around him, rubbing his femur through the thick fabric of his new bathrobe with his thumb.

“no,” Stretch said quietly. “what’s going on?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Edge admitted. He took a sip of his drink, savoring the rich, oaky taste, and then offered it to Stretch, just to watch him grimace when he took a sip of his own. With Stretch, sweeter was always better when it came to alcohol.

“excited?” Stretch coughed as he handed back the glass. Edge swirled the contents, considering the amber liquid.

“Yes? No?” he offered. “I’m not sure what the word is. I realize we’ve been living together for a year, but…” He smiled a little, pulled Stretch in a little tighter. “Perhaps it’s just foolish sentiment, but this means something to me. It means a lot to me.”

Stretch was silent for a long moment before he murmured. “i know.” He drew away, landing lightly on his feet. “okay, hang on.”

Curiously, Edge watched him shortcut away, leaving him alone with the fire and his drink. But not for long, he came back the more traditional way, down the stairs with an armload of blankets and what looked like every pillow in the house. 

Using the cushions from the sofa and two chairs scavenged from the dining room, Stretch constructed a cozy sort of cave by the fireplace, layering the bottom with the pillows. With an expression of great satisfaction, he crawled inside, then peered around the blanket wall at Edge.

“well? c’mere.”

Edge shook his head, tossed back the rest of his drink, and went.

It was a snug fit, but they managed, and Edge found himself curled up in the pillows with his skull nestled into Stretch’s lap. Slim fingers ghosted over his skull, lingering over the cranial sutures and tracing the lines of his cervical vertebra. Edge closed his sockets, relaxing into the touch. The warmth of the fire was a ghostly touch of its own, waves of soothing warmth.

“do I need to tell you a story?” Stretch teased softly.

Edge couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “It’s not fluffy bunny is it?”

Stretch laughed softly and leaned down to hug him, nuzzling at his temple, “no. not fluffy bunny.”

“Then no, I think I’m fine with this.” In a few short hours, this skeleton, this Monster, would be his husband, and Edge couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.

The softest touch of a kiss lingered at his temple and then Stretch drew back, his fingers finding Edge’s skull again. A few minutes passed with no sound but the crackling fire and then Edge was not surprised to hear Stretch humming absently, his fingertips stroking Edge lightly where ever he could reach.

Love he could ask for, comfort, surely, even joy, but Edge had learned that asking for silence from Stretch was a step too far. The song was one Edge vaguely recognized as the theme to the A-Team.

Not exactly a lullaby, but it would do.

-fin


	16. Great Eggs-pectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Stretch’s first day owning chickens and it’s going great. Sort of.

* * *

Edge sipped at his second coffee of the morning, flipping the page on his newspaper. Despite Stretch’s mocking at his ‘primitive ways’, as he put it, he still preferred an actual paper rather than getting his news from the internet. A computer made it too easy for him to scroll through stories and miss details that might later be important.

The light coming in through the opened window was still pale, barely past dawn, and through it he could faintly hear the clucking chickens and Stretch’s voice as he chatted with them. What information it was that he thought the chickens needed, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t curious enough to get closer to listen.

His first day as a proud chicken owner and Stretch had risen at dawn with him, eager to care for his flock. It wasn’t going to last, that much was certain; Stretch might well be content in caring for his pets for a while yet, but continuing to get out of bed this early was half past a pipe dream. One thing he’d learned not long after coming to this universe was that it wasn’t simple laziness that kept his brother napping at his work station; Monsters with low HP needed their rest.

The back door slammed open and Edge jerked, nearly spilling his coffee as Stretch dashed into the room, already calling his name, “edge!”

There was a note of fear in his voice that had him on his feet in an instant, pure instinct moving him to stand between Stretch and the door. “What’s wrong?”

“there’s something wrong with the chickens!” Stretch told him tearfully. Concerning, but Edge relaxed a little. If they were being attacked, he wasn’t going to be much of a threatening figure in his pajamas.

“What do you mean?” Edge asked carefully. A glance out the window showed him three chickens in the coop, pecking around at the ground peacefully.

“look!” Stretch held out a dainty basket and Edge decided not to question where he’d gotten it. Inside it were three eggs, one brown, one greenish, and one even a delicate shade of pale blue. He picked up the blue one, admiring the color with pleasure. It was a tiny joy but life in Underfell had taught him to enjoy each and every one.

Stretch didn’t seem to be sharing his joy. Cautiously, Edge replaced the egg in the basket. “Yes? They’re eggs.” 

“eggs are supposed to be white!” Stretch moaned. He seemed to be on the verge of panic. “do you think they’re sick? i need to look this up, maybe they’re sick.” He paused in the middle of typing into his phone, sockets widening, “or maybe it’s the bugs they are eating, do you think we have different bugs than the farm? maybe our bugs are like, bad for chickens or poisonous or something!”

“Love…Rus…” Edge took him by the shoulders and shook him lightly until Stretch finally looked at him, his eye lights narrowed to pin pricks. “They are _supposed_ to look like that.”

“what?” Stretch said blankly.

“They are supposed to look like that,” Edge repeated patiently. “They are called Easter egger chickens. I chose them specifically for the trait.” He smiled ruefully. “I suppose I should have mentioned it.”

“oh,” Stretch sagged in relief and Edge waited as that information filtered deeper. He wasn’t disappointed. Stretch’s eye lights brightened and he gasped out, “oh! oh!! they lay colored eggs??”

“They do,” Edge reassured him then had to catch Stretch as he flung himself into Edge’s arms, giving him a fierce and decidedly sloppy kiss.

He drew away before Edge could deepen it, squirming free. “i need a picture of this, hang on!”

Bemused, Edge found himself holding three eggs cupped in his hands while Stretch snapped a picture. He set them back in the basket as Stretch tapped away on his phone, probably posting it to his twitter.

“someday you need to let me post an actual picture of you,” Stretch told him archly. “everyone thinks you’re my boyfriend from canada.”

“No, thank you,” Edge grimaced. He washed his hands before picking up his coffee cup again. “I’d prefer you were the only internet famous person in the household.”

“fine, fine. but i want some pics of the chicks for my instagram, come out and let me get your feet in a couple,” Stretch gave him a pleading look and while skeletons didn’t have the capacity for true puppy dog eyes, he certainly did the best he could with what he had.

“All right,” Edge sighed. His coffee was only lukewarm, anyway. “Let me get dressed first. I’ll put on some appropriate shoes.” He might as well spend the morning with Stretch while he could, since he was gambling on his lover falling asleep on the sofa within the hour.

Stretch gave him a gleeful smile and dashed back outside while Edge made his way upstairs and gave some thought to what boots would look best on twitter when surrounded by chickens.

It didn’t matter too much. After all, whatever he picked, Stretch would be happy.

 

-finis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d always intended his chickens to be of the Easter egger variety and never mentioned it. Icy_pants reminded me of it and I had to wonder what Stretch would think of it without advance warning, LOL


End file.
